


Do Not Go Gentle

by ishie



Category: Community
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishie/pseuds/ishie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I think,' Annie says, and waits for their attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Go Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for eilowyn on the 2010 [Awesome Ladies Ficathon](http://ineffort.livejournal.com/199061.html?thread=4787093#t4787093) for the prompt "BtVS & Community, Annie and Dawn: "Do not let anyone think less of you because you are young." - 1 Timothy 4:12"
> 
> I tried to false-memory-implant Dawn into the study group but, um. Yeah. And yes, that's Dylan Thomas. Yes, I'm ridiculous. As always, commentfic = unbeta'd so I'd love any feedback!

"I think," Annie says, and waits for their attention.

Jeff and Britta keep arguing, something about whether someone named Acey, or maybe Slater, was as badass as he tried to pretend he was. Britta's making a pretty good case for him, but if Jeff says he wasn't a badass, then he most likely wasn't. Annie thinks he's probably very good at making that sort of determination.

To her left, Shirley's peering down at her phone and muttering to herself about ungrateful children and ex-husbands as she stabs at the keys with one angry finger. On the other side of Shirley, Pierce is blurting out one offensive come-on after another, totally oblivious to the fact that Shirley's not paying one bit of attention to him.

Troy and Abed are giggling to each other at the end of the table. Troy keeps flicking balled-up wads of paper at Pierce, who waves them off and says something about a mosquito net.

"I think we should," Annie tries again, a little louder this time.

"Think what, sweetie?" Shirley sounds like she's interested but she doesn't look up from her phone either. "Ooh, I hate this finish-your-words-for-you thing!"

"I can fix that!" Troy says.

"We really need to," Anne says, louder still.

Jeff shouts, "He had a perm!"

Pierce starts chuckling and elbows Troy, who drops the phone. The battery cover flies off with a loud crack, which makes Shirley jump out of her chair with a dismayed, "Oh!"

"Look at what you did, man!" Troy sounds almost as irritated as he did the last time someone on the quad asked which accelerated high school class he was in. Abed frowns down at the phone, then up at Pierce. After a second he frowns down at the phone again like he's not sure whose fault it is that Shirley's got one hand stuck under the couch while she wails about not getting the extended warranty.

Britta turns her glare from Jeff to Pierce, both of whom throw up their hands.

Annie clears her throat and stands up. "We really should—"

No one looks away from whoever they're yelling at, and that's the last straw. Annie has had enough of this.

She bends a knee and climbs onto her chair, carefully holding her skirt close to her legs on the way up. She knows what happens when you're the youngest in the group, the only one with no interesting talents or, or mature life experiences. The one everyone pats on the head and ignores until it's time to tell her to stay put while they go off and do the interesting stuff.

No way is Annie Edison going to be the Dawn in this particular group. She knows her _Buffy_. Well, she knows the episodes that ran over the summer while she was hiding at home from everyone who'd ever even heard the word Adderall. But those episodes were mostly Dawn episodes, and no. No, _thank_ you.

She claps her hands twice, hard, stinging her palms, then barks, "We're all going to flunk mañana unless we start studying _inmediatamente_!"

All six of them turn to look up at her, then slowly move back into their own seats to flip their books open. They're all grumbling, but Annie can't hear what they're saying.

Even if she could, she's already lost to the thrill of victory as she carefully climbs down from her perch and uncaps her pen.

"Should we start with the vocabulary?" she asks, all sweetness and light now that they're listening. She'd really rather be this way, so she hopes they don't make her get angry.

What if they don't like her when she's angry?


End file.
